


Reflection

by SomnificSheep



Series: BTHB Fills [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Closeted Character, Dysphoria, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Genma does his best, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Self-Harm, Some AFAB language used, Trans Hatake Kakashi, deadnaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 20:24:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19979995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomnificSheep/pseuds/SomnificSheep
Summary: Why is my reflection someone I don't know?The last thing Kakashi wants to do is look in the mirror.





	Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> For Bad Things Happen Bingo, prompt Rage Against the Reflection.
> 
> Kakashi is closeted to everyone but Genma, his partner, and AFAB language is used in reference to the mission he was sent on. Name's on the tin, there's a lot of pain and anger in these words.

“Sachi-senpai, a word?”

Kakashi faces the tiles in the ANBU showers, setting his jaw against the name. “What, Tenzou?”

“I’d like to speak to you about what happened at the hotel,” Tenzou says. “You’ve been in the shower a long time. Can we discuss it in private?”

“It’s over. There’s no need to talk about it.” Kakashi’s fingernails, still painted pink, rip down his arm in frustration when he doesn’t hear footsteps retreating. “That’s an order. Leave me alone.”

Tenzou’s sigh echoes through the room, and Kakashi’s glad no one else is here to witness him being bothered. “You were crying. That isn’t like you.”

Water runs down Kakashi’s body, stinging his eyes as he lets his head tilt back. He’s long since removed the make-up, all the way back in Suna, but it still haunts him. The thought of smoky grey around his eyes and rouge on his cheeks makes him ill, and he hugs himself before realizing it makes the water pool between the breasts Konoha insists he use for their benefit.

_You’re so beautiful, Sachi, why not utilize that?_

Drops spatter on the floor as he shakes his head against another question from Tenzou. “Did he do something to hurt you? Something you didn’t like?”

“No,” Kakashi bites out, because telling Tenzou the whole mission was something he didn’t like isn’t an option.

“Then--”

“Just go,” Kakashi says. “If you’re still questioning me tomorrow, we can go over it then.” He doesn’t mean it, and he’s positive Tenzou knows it, but Tenzou decides sleep is more important than sleuthing and heads out, leaving Kakashi alone. “I’m sorry,” Kakashi whispers to the closing door. “I don’t want it to be this way either.”

He turns up the heat until it burns, just as he did after every time he slept with their mark. On his stomach, on his back, riding the other man’s hips...he wants to erase it all from memory with the hopes that Genma doesn’t give him the pity stare.

Everyone has to do things they don’t like on missions, and Kakashi should be no different.

The thought of a cock spilling inside him over and over makes his stomach twist. He’s taken all the necessary precautions to prevent anything happening, but it was the act itself. He’d had to _beg_ for it, put himself on his knees for it, and that causes bile to spill onto the tiles. _That’s_ what he’d wanted to do in he and Tenzou’s room, but Tenzou would have thought that more irregular than crying as he wiped makeup away.

He hadn’t even gotten wet the last few times, and his... _partner..._ hadn’t been thrilled that his woman needed extra warming up.

Heat pricks the back of his eyes as he scratches at his chest. All he can think of is how it felt to have calloused palms groping him, rough fingers playing with his nipples in an attempt to get him hot. Those same fingers had prodded him until he’d nearly screamed in frustration because if someone was going to use his body, they could at least use it _properly._

Over and over, he plays these memories. Blood beads on the broken skin of his chest, only to be washed away in the next second as water stings the wounds. _Sachi,_ he remembers. _Sachi, baby, don’t you want me?_

“No,” he mutters, louder with each swipe of his nails. “No, no, not Sachi.”

_Baby…_

“No!” His shout echoes through the room, and he’s glad they got back in the early hours of the morning. “I’m not her,” he whimpers. “Not.”

He continues to wrestle with himself until the water runs cold, then for another few minutes until he musters the strength to turn off the tap. _Drip, drip, drip_ it goes, just like the other man’s release from his body. _Drip, drip, drip,_ just like his blood when he’d resisted. _Drip, drip, drip,_ just like Kakashi’s tears on the vanity while Tenzou wondered after him.

Though his chakra reserves are low, he heals himself so the scratches aren’t bleeding before pulling on his uniform and flickering to Genma’s kitchen. _Our kitchen,_ he chides himself. _Ours._ The sound of Genma rolling restlessly in bed echo through the hall, distracting Kakashi from going immediately for the pack of cigarettes on the counter.

When Genma quiets, Kakashi can’t help himself. They’ve agreed to keep a pack between them for emergencies, and he’s positive this counts as an emergency. His hands tremble as he lights up, pink nails taunting him until he gives in to the desire to scratch and pick until there’s nothing left. His lips clamp down around the butt with a whimper as he backs up, up, up until his back is against the refrigerator and the clatter of bottles rouses Genma.

“It’s me,” Kakashi says quickly when his partner appears with a kunai at the ready. He draws his shoulders into his chest before Genma relaxes and moves to stand in front of him.

“We agreed we wouldn’t smoke,” he says, voice rough with sleep. “Something go wrong?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m fine.” Kakashi screws his eyes shut and leans his cheek against the cool metal. “Hard mission. Simple. Seduction.”

The way Genma sighs ‘oh, Kakashi,’ makes his stomach drop. “I’m so sorry,” he says. “If I could’ve gone for you…”

“He didn’t want someone with a penis,” Kakashi spits. “You would have been wasted.” He wants to lean into Genma’s arms, tuck a senbon into his lips, but the thought of anyone touching him right now makes him sick again.

He takes another drag instead, and listens to Genma’s breathing.

“Hungry?” Genma asks when the cigarette’s burning low. “There’s leftovers in the fridge. It’s not eggplant anything, but--”

“Stop, Gen,” Kakashi says. His voice is rough, deep, but not deep enough. It never is. “Food’s not going to do anything.”

“What will?”

“Nothing.”

Genma nods and swallows as his gaze falls to the ground. “Do you want me to leave you alone?”

Tears prick at Kakashi’s eyes once more. “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t--”

“Something else?” Genma holds out an arm, hopeful but Kakashi only stares it down until he lowers it. “I don’t have anything going tomorrow, so I’m he--” he yawns, and not subtly-- “Here. Fuck. For you.”

“You’re tired,” Kakashi whispers. “Don’t stay up for my sake.”

“Your sake is my sake,” Genma says, then shakes his head in confusion. “That sounded better in my head, I don’t know, babe.” He gives Kakashi a sleepy smile that _should_ lift Kakashi’s mood, but only serves to cause the first tear to track down his cheek. “Kakashi?”

“He called me baby,” Kakashi mumbles to the refrigerator. “When he...he…” He bites down on his knuckle hard enough to draw blood, canines piercing the skin and wringing out a low groan from deep in his chest. “I’m not baby. I’m not Sachi.”

“No, you’re not,” Genma agrees quietly.

“I’m not,” Kakashi repeats.

Genma is quiet as Kakashi shakes his head, staring sightlessly at the floor. He’s quiet as Kakashi heads to the bathroom, bloody knuckle leaving a stain Genma will clean later. He’s quiet save for the slide of his shoulders down the door when Kakashi shuts him out, followed by the drumming of fingers on his thigh as Kakashi holds onto the vanity for dear life.

Turning on the bathroom light is the worst idea he’s had since he agreed to go on the mission. High cheekbones taunt him, the angry flush looking every bit as it had in the Suna bathroom. His eyes, even reddened with tears, are something to _desire,_ something to _want._ The ghost of a crimson smile haunts his lips, and he lashes out at the mirror with an enraged cry. “I’m _not,_ I’m not, I’m not,” he yells. He’s probably terrifying the neighbors, but he doesn’t care. Pain lances through him when the glass cracks beneath his fist. “I’m not,” he says, voice breaking along with his reflection. “I hate her, hate her, ha--”

His next blow is stopped by Genma, the tokujo’s arms coming around his upper body and dragging him back to fall against the wall. “You’re _bleeding,”_ Genma grunts when he struggles. “You have glass in your hands.”

 _“I hate her!”_ Kakashi wails.

“I know!” Genma says, the sudden noise shocking Kakashi into complacency for a split second. “I know, Kakashi, I know, but just-ju--” He breaks off in a pained moan when Kakashi’s head connects with his nose. “Fuck,” he says as they both hear a commotion next door.

Kakashi curls tightly in on himself as Genma gets up. He doesn’t want to look at his hands, not now, not when the pain grounds him against the urge to do something far worse. He listens to Genma assuring Ibiki and Raidou that they’re fine, Sachi’s just come back from a hard mission.

“Kakashi,” Kakashi whispers as the door shuts. “Kakashi.”

“I know,” Genma repeats, and the heartbreak in his words wears Kakashi to the bone. “All you need to do is say you’re ready,” he continues, but Kakashi’s not sure that day will ever come. “I love you,” he says last of all, ever so quiet, and Kakashi’s will to resist dissipates as Genma pulls down the first aid kit and begins to clean his wounds. “No matter what, Kakashi, I love you.”

Genma has to get sick of the way Kakashi can do nothing but repeat the same nonsense over the time it takes to bandage him. He lays listlessly when the other man kneels in front of him, sadness spelled out in amber eyes. “I hate her,” Kakashi says, one last time.

“These should really be stitched,” Genma says softly.

“No hospital,” Kakashi says. He wipes the back of his hand across his running nose before looking up. “You don’t hate me?”

“Never.”

Kakashi sniffs. The bath mat isn’t a comfortable place to lay his head, but that’s where it ends up as he slumps to the floor. “I can buy a new mirror.”

Genma sighs as he settles on the ground next to him. “How about we get you to bed, clean this up tomorrow, and _then_ think about getting a new mirror?”

“‘S fine,” Kakashi mumbles. 

“Do you want me to do your hair?” Genma asks. When Kakashi nods, he cards the slim digits through knotted silver strands. “You know I wouldn’t ever hate you,” he says, his whisper nigh on melodic as he works. “You and your mask stole my heart, and you’re even the only one allowed to touch my precious senbon.”

Kakashi shuts his eyes and knits his brow as he leans into the touch. His lip quivers for a bit, the effort of holding back almost too much to bear before his body gives up completely, anger fading away to apathy. Genma begins to hum when he drags himself to rest his head on Genma’s thigh. “I’m sorry,” he breathes. “I hate being used.”

“Shh,” Genma soothes. When Kakashi looks up, he’s got his eyes closed and head leaned back against the vanity. “I know, Kakashi. I’ve been on those missions.”

“It’s not an excuse, though.” Kakashi tucks both hands under his chin as Genma continues to stroke, the rhythm lulling him into an uneasy sense of peace and security. “I should handle it better. It’s my duty.”

“You have me to help,” Genma says.

“But you don’t go on missions with me.”

“And you don’t get like this until you’re safe at home,” Genma whispers. “You don’t _need_ to handle it here. I’m here for the times you can’t handle it, you know?”

Kakashi turns over and lets out a shuddering breath into Genma’s stomach. Really, he’s lucky Genma stopped him before it became worse. His palms will heal, the rage subside, and then...he’ll put Genma through it over and over until he’s man enough to let everyone else know who he is.

He uses the waist of Genma’s boxers to wipe his eyes. “I’m so tired, Genma.”

“Do you want to go to bed, or are we going to sit here all night?”

It’s not what he means, but Kakashi rises, bones lead as he surveys the damage. “You can go,” he says. “I’ll clean up.” He heaves himself to his feet with a low groan and extends a hand to Genma before thinking better of it. “I’ll...go to the hospital in the morning if I need to. Go to bed. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Genma holds an arm out one last time, and Kakashi takes the opportunity to slot himself against his side. His partner makes no move to touch him save for the arm around his shoulders, something which Kakashi is grateful for. “I’ll be waiting,” he says after a soft squeeze.

Kakashi shivers at the brush of lips over his forehead. “Don’t,” he mumbles. “I’ll be there.”

“I said I’ll wait,” Genma says.

“Okay.” When Genma lets him go, Kakashi tries putting on a smile. He fails, but Genma accepts the effort and leaves him to clean alone. He watches himself pick up the pieces before settling onto his elbows with a shard in hand, head bowed.

_Something has to give._

_Someone._

_Me._

The glass tinkles merrily, mocking him as he sweeps it into the wastebasket. Genma’s right. He shouldn’t hide anymore. He doesn’t want to be looked at as Sachi, doesn’t want the jokes about women. “Sage help the next person who jokes about that time of the month,” he sighs.

But doesn’t think he’s ready for that, not yet, and as he settles into bed next to Genma, he shoves the _shouldn’t_ deep inside as he always does. The _should_ will have to wait for another day, because it’s all he can do right now to keep himself from picking at the bandages. He can’t imagine the anxiety that would come from everyone _knowing._

He’ll sleep, hide until another day, and get through this the best he knows how.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments always read and _very_ much appreciated, and I always do my best to get back to them ❤️
> 
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